Melody of You
by Blancwene
Summary: Tahiri thinks of Anakin and how her life has changed


AN: Born out of the need to write SOMETHING from Tahiri's POV.  The title is from a sixpence none the richer song which doesn't relate at all to the plot, but oh well. I also experimented in this viggie a little with a different writing style – something not quite so distinct as my normal voice.  Anyway, I'm rambling now…Enjoy! 

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**Melody of You**

I never thought I'd loose you.  I was young and naïve then; harsh reality had not yet crept upon my hopes and dreams.  And that was where we made our mistake, you and I.  Our love was immature and - for lack of a better term - inexperienced.  We no more thought that you could die than Coruscant shift from its orbit or the stars cease to shine in the night sky.

But you did die.  You left me to gather up the pieces of my life and start anew.

It was hard, at first, accepting that I'd truly lost you.  Anakin Solo, sixteen-year-old champion of the universe, gone?  You were so strong, so brave, so full of energy.  You had authority and charisma.  You could rally the others with a simple word and were the logical successor to your uncle's legacy.

None of those qualities could prevent a Yuuzhan Vong warrior from stabbing an amphistaff into your ribs.  In the end, you were just as mortal as everyone else.  After stripping away the legends, the prophecies, the Shamed Ones' stories, you were merely a boy.  Ephemeral, temporal, like the hot breezes wafting across Tatooine's dunes.  You were the ultimate mythic hero, except somehow the ending didn't go as planned.  No triumphant return to Coruscant after vanquishing the foe, no romantic meeting with the lovely maiden of your dreams.  You burned on a funeral pyre on Hapes in the presence of grieving friends.

Perhaps someone will still recount your tale one day, as part of the Great Yuuzhan Vong War Saga.  But your status dropped with your death, shifting you from lead male to a minor character that disappeared halfway through the story.  Others rose to take your place.

Things changed once you were gone: unlikely events that seemed even more impossible than your decease.  Jaina turned to the Dark Side, only to return to the Light.  Jacen was captured, escaped from imprisonment, and took your place in this epic.

It's funny how things turn out.  I would never have guessed that your brother, protector of little creatures and he-who-refused-to-use-the-Force, would emerge as the man who saved us all.  That was your task, not Jacen's.  He's always been more of a philosopher than a warrior, yet he still battled Shimrra and killed the Supreme Overlord.  But now that we're at peace, he's returned to his peaceful, pondering ways again.

So what was I in the scope of things: the former love interest of a minor character, who underwent a transformation into a grim female fighter?  If you had stayed alive, would I still have merged with Riina or would you have once again subdued my other half, the spirit within my own?

Difficult questions.  Equally difficult answers, if you actually think about them.  These "what-ifs" are mind-boggling in their complexity and involvedness.  Why brood over the "could-have-beens" when I can spend the rest of my existence focusing on the future?  Your life may have ended on that worldship above Myrkr, but mine didn't.  I have countless years to continue on my journey through this galaxy until I finally become one with the Force.  Like you.

Yet you're not really gone.  For even after death, a part of you remains with me, locked inside my mind and treasured in my heart.  Memories are precious, as sweet as namana nectar, and at the same time as bitter as pomma fruit.  Remembrances can be addictive, so I use them sparingly.  Better to stumble through the world alone and face pain and fear than to submerge myself in forgotten fantasies.

I'm beginning to realize, though, that there is another way I can see you still.  After your heart ceased to beat and your lungs stopped inhaling, you joined the Force like everyone before you.  Your body stayed behind, fragile and broken, but your soul escaped to the afterlife.  You went from being one insignificant human to part of an energy field that is so large it encompasses life itself.

If the Force is life, and you are now within life…you are everywhere.  In the sky, the fields, the trees, the sea.

And I'm starting to pick things out in nature that remind me so much of you.  Zonama Sekot's reflecting pool is so clear, so limpid.  I can sit for hours by its banks, watching the sunlight reflecting off its pale blue surface and the fish breaking its stillness with tiny ripples of movement.  Its waters are beautiful, almost a cerulean shade.  Like your eyes, my love.  Occasionally, I catch a playful glimmer in its playful waves, very much like the bemused look you would give me when I did something funny.

The brown grasses on Toprawa sway gently as I walk past, brushing against my bare leg and yet leaving no trace of their contact.  The blades are soft, when I rub them between my fingers, and smell faintly of wood smoke and rain.  Your scent.  I remember the same aroma when I leaned against your shoulder, breathing in that comforting combination of manliness and cleanliness.  Smoke always brought back memories of the Tusken Raiders and their campfires, while rain was redemption and forgiveness, cleansing away my heartaches and wrongdoings.  Both united in you, and present in a simple product of nature.

Or the sunset on my homeworld, vibrant reds mixed with soft pinks at the horizon line, fading into subdued tones of blue and grey in the expanse far above.  As I look closely, I can make out more distinct colors: orange to the east, a dull yellow echoing the never-ending sands, and a tannish shade temporarily trapped between a spot of peach and a greater area of navy.  Like the time your mother forced you to wear a dark dress suit, and you retaliated by tying a saffron scarf around your waist.  It was garish, daring…yet somehow as pleasing as the brilliant display I see before me.

The soothing warmth of Mon Calamari's ocean wraps around my body like a gentle blanket, relaxing and comforting.  The water heats me, envelopes me in an embrace that is similar to your hugs.  Granted, you could not truly keep me warm, but your strong arms made me feel safe and protected.  I feared no danger when you were with me.

Even the wind reminds me of you.  It blows forcefully across the ravaged landscape of Coruscant, and its deep cry resonates between the decaying buildings and rusted structures.  It flies past me, wiping my hair into a mess and stinging my cheeks, yet singing the melody of you.  Its voice is intense, but not anguished; wise, but not weak; haunting, but not harsh.  There's a hint of your inflection in its soaring notes, as it brushes by me again.  It's almost as though your soul has been trapped within that gust, and is crying to me, communicating with my spirit in a way I can't understand.

But I can guess what it's saying.  I must move on.  My wishes and ambitions shouldn't end just because yours were terminated early, and I must travel on until I find another soul mate.  With the trillions of people in this galaxy, there must be one man I can love until that day we are finally reunited.

I will make a name for myself, travel this road before me, and perhaps even have children to carry on my story.

And through it all, I will not be alone.  The grainy shore of a pristine beach, the fragrant blossoms in your mother's garden, the twinkling stars in the black of space, and that distinct breeze on a world where we gave so much: they all contain the melody of your legacy.  The melody of your last courageous, doomed words.  The melody of the desperate look in your eyes when you realized you had no hope.

The melody of you.

[FIN]


End file.
